Ancient
by waywardvictorian
Summary: The summer of Harry's fifth year was spent at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. When that summer draws to a close he doesn't exactly want to leave. One shot Sirius/Harry


Prompt: Ancient

Pairing: Sirius/Harry

A/N: First prompt one shot I had written, mostly done in math class. I really rather like this one better then the last. I would again like to thank my totally amazingly fabulous beta :Corycian Muse for her hard work in making this as good as it is.

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Harry lay on the ancient green daybed watching the sunlight sparkle with at least ten years worth of dust. The sitting room behind the library of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had, over the course of the summer, become his sanctuary. This refuge of his was yet to discovered by Mrs. Weasley, and thus he had escaped the frantic cleaning-war raging against the rest of the house.

Harry had come to find the room completely be accident. It was a tranquil place, with the green daybed that over-looked the high street in London, the double French doors that let out on to a lovely ivy covered balcony. Large windows lined the North-facing wall. He had quickly learned that basking in the warm summer sunlight, while lounging on the soft Indian rug or one of the many chairs was the best place to work on last minute Charms homework.

The quiet, untouched atmosphere made it much easier to concentrate than in the chaotic comings and goings, or the upending of the troll umbrella stand, any of which would cause an upheaval of whatever was going on downstairs.

He was rubbing out a bit of his essay's conclusion that just didn't sound right, when the door from the library squeaked open. Harry's head jerked up, quill jerking through his just-finished essay, and smudging ink all over the still drying conclusion. His green eyes were focused on the figure standing in the doorway.

"Sirius?" he asked, pulling himself up, and craning his neck for a better look.

"How did you get in here?" Sirius was casually leaning on the door frame, his dark messy hair falling about his slender shoulders. There was a unique confidence about Sirius, an obscene grace that seemed to cling to him. With cat-like elegance, he entered the room, feet padding softly on the dull dust-covered wooden floor.

He settled next to Harry in the mid afternoon sun. Tipping his head back, his hair fell down his back. He faced towards the window and closed his eyes, a faint smile playing about his lips. He seemed to drink in the light.

After being locked away from the light for ever so long, he basked in its warmth, enjoying every second. After a moment of stillness Sirius spoke, voice slightly bitter; his sentences were clipped and the ideas ran into each other. "They're worried about you, complaining you're never down there. Can't see why you'd want to be... Planning on sending a retrieval squad soon - I said you'd rather be up here… Didn't listen, never do. Figured I'd warn you." He stopped for a moment before adding, "Do you like it here?" as an afterthought.

Harry tilted his head, slightly confused to his meaning. His green eyes focused on Sirius's grey ones, which in turn were trained on the burgundy rug. He thought for a minute before replying, "Yeah, I do." He looked out the window, smiling slightly.

Sirius's head snapped up, a look of bewilderment on his face. "Why?!"

"Well… you're here, it's quiet - at least some of the time. I don't have to worry about a malignant psycho, and his half-witted minions trying to off me every few days. It's good." Harry smiled as he finished. Sirius shook his head.

"You're crazy."

Harry laughed. He leaned against Sirius's chest. His bright eyes flickered shut and he sighed. Sirius looked down at the messy black head that rested under his chin. He ran a long, tanned hand through Harry's mussed hair.

"I'm going to miss you, you know," said Sirius, his voice low, lips so close to Harry's ear.

Harry shivered at the cool breath on his neck, "And I you," he answered. " I don't want to go back really… it's not much fun anymore and now they think I'm deranged. If - if I get expelled, can I stay with you?"

Sirius was quiet. He lay back on the daybed, bringing Harry with him, so that the small boy laid his head on his thin chest. "_If_ you get expelled, I would wish nothing more then for you to stay with me Harry, but you won't be, and even if you were I doubt you would be given the option to return here." Again Sirius's words were bitter, tainted in frustration and isolation.

Harry looked up through his dark lashes into Sirius's face. "Well then we won't listen. We could - we could go away - go anywhere, Sirius - we could go to France, or America - the possibilities are endless."

Sirius chuckled. He ran his hand through Harry's hair, and Harry leaned into the soft touch. "We could, but we shouldn't… We won't, you know that."

Harry propped himself up on an elbow. "_Why_ not? Why _couldn't_ we? Why _should_ we have to stay here? Why should _you _have to stay here? It's _going_ to kill you." He spoke passionately, green eyes blazing in anger.

Sirius looked up into those bright eyes, and slowly he moved and rose up, so he was hovering mere centimeters from Harry's lips. And ever so gently he kissed his cheek, and then his forehead, finally meeting Harry's lips only for a moment, before falling back onto the daybed, defeated. Harry was totally still, his eyes wide in shock and searching for something. Sirius found it hard to meet his gaze those green orbs. Then ever so slowly Harry leaned down, his chest resting on Sirius. Their lips met again, briefly, before Harry whispered, "Run away with me."

Sirius wrapped his long arms around the smaller boy, holding him close, his grey eyes filled with a longing remorse. "If only I could." He cradled the boy, before pulling him into one last kiss, filling it with everything he couldn't figure out how to say. Harry clung to him, his small hands tangled into wild long hair. The world seemed to stop.

Then it was over, and Sirius was getting up. He ran his hand over Harry's face one last time, his eyes sadder then Harry had ever seen them. Once he had righted himself, he bent and kissed Harry's cheek, before crossing the room to the door. He paused for only a second, head bent, he spoke so softly that Harry almost missed it. "One day," he breathed, and was gone.

For the rest of the week, leading up to the start of term, Sirius had been barely seen, and when he was he was sullen and moody. Totally unapproachable. Harry too had become subdued, confused by his godfather's behavior: he was a contradiction.

The day Harry left for Hogwarts, he was tired, having not slept well the night before. Ron had long ago gone down for breakfast - something Harry was avoiding.

It turned out that Sirius had been right. He wasn't expelled, but a small part of him wished he had been. He was sitting on the old four-poster bed, staring off into space, when there came a knock at the door. "It's open," he called, not moving from his place on the bed. He heard the door open, and felt the bed dip next to him. He couldn't bear to look at see who it was, but this visitor, this someone, was running their hand into his hair, and unthinkingly he leaned into the touch. His eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm going to miss you, more then you know," Sirius whispered.

Harry nodded. He laid his head on the other's chest. "I'll be back at Christmas… but it's a long time until then."

Sirius turned Harry to face him, and ran his hand down the boy's face. He kissed Harry ever so softly. Their lips were about to meet again, when feet were heard on the landing.

Then Sirius was gone. Harry didn't see him again before they left for the station. And while his best friends were off performing Prefect duties, he was left alone. He didn't mind. He sat staring out the window, wondering about airfare to Paris.


End file.
